


Vingt et Un

by makeitmine



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 15:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6760150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makeitmine/pseuds/makeitmine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack wants to do something special for Bitty's birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vingt et Un

**Author's Note:**

> Since today is Bitty's birthday in the comic, I felt it was time to venture into the fic world here. Happy birthday, precious pie man!

When the Falconers lose in the first round of the playoffs, Jack isn’t entirely heartbroken. Disappointed, sure, but secretly he’s glad that he won’t be halfway across the country during the month of May for Bitty’s twenty-first birthday and their first anniversary.

In the days leading up to the former, however, Jack is at a loss for what to give as a present. He wants to make sure it’s even better than the oven and filled with sentiment.

“Brah, just throw the biggest kegster ever,” Shitty suggests. Jack makes a mental note to never ask Shitty for gift advice again.

Two days before he’s on Skype with Lardo. Bitty is down in the kitchen with Ransom tutoring him on his own Women and Food class and had informed Jack earlier he probably wouldn’t be online until late, as he had to study for his Statistics final afterwards. Jack explains his dilemma to Lardo, and she is entirely empathetic.

“I get it, Jack,” she says. “You want the perfect gift that will sweep our little southern boy off his feet. I mean, not that he needs it, you’ve been doing it plenty all year long.”

“Larissa…” Jack turns away from the screen, embarrassed. “They don’t know.”

“Oh, I’m sure Ransom and Holster figured it out months ago. I’d only worry if Chowder realized it.”

“Okay, okay. So, what should I do? What do you think Eric Bittle would want for his birthday?”

Lardo rubs her thumb and forefinger down her chin in thought. “Hmmm. I’m pretty sure he’s not wanting a major blowout. I wouldn’t want it either, since I’m already at about a nine on my emotion meter with graduation next week. One last kegster would guarantee to set me off.”

“Yeah, that’s not Bittle’s style,” Jack says.

“And seeing as Samwell’s top restaurant is Wendy’s, I guess a five-course dinner is out of the question, too.”

“He’d only go and ask the maitre’d what kind of pie they’re ser--” Jack cuts off abruptly as he’s hit with a thought. “I’ve got it! I’ll bake!”

Lardo busts out laughing. “Are you insane?”

“What? Isn’t that a good idea?”

“You, Jack Zimmermann, who can barely cook up a box of macaroni and cheese--”

“Excuse me, but Guy said Kraft Dinner is a staple for a bachelor pad.”

“--without burning the noodles,” Lardo continues, “want to bake something for your boyfriend?”

Jack nods. “Yeah. I think he’d appreciate it, don’t you?”

“I think we’d be more likely to see Shitty without the ‘stache.”

“Then what else can I do?” Jack asks, throwing his hands in the air. “I want to make his day, and this is the best way I can think of.”

“Fine, go for it,” Lardo sighs. She shakes her head in disappointment, but Jack sees a hint of a smile on her face.

“You’re swawesome. Anyway, do you think you can get everyone out of the Haus that morning for me?”

“Oh hell no, Jack, Bitty will kill you if you do anything to the kitchen!”

“Please?” Jack pouts, hoping it will win her over.

“You look like a lost moose, Zimmermann.”

“Love you, too.”  


* * *

The first thing Jack does when his alarm goes off at 6:15 is reach for his phone. He sends two texts out.

_To: Eric Bittle  
Joyeux anniversaire, mon amour! I might not be around much of the day, but I promise I’ll call you when I can._

To: Lardo Duan  
Leaving Providence after workout, probably around 9. Get the boys out by 10?

Jack is less than surprised when he checks his phone after he gets dressed and sees Bitty replied with numerous emojis. The only reason he even has the emoji app installed is because of how often Bitty sends them out. Lardo’s response is more wordy. _I make no promises. You KNOW how Holster is when he can’t sleep in!_ He smiles, tosses his phone into his duffel bag and heads out to the gym.

The workout goes smoothly, and Jack is out of the shower with plenty of time to spare. As he gets into his car to start on his trip, he calls Shitty.

“The fuck you want?” an angry voice answers.

“Did you even look to make sure I wasn’t your dad?” Jack asks.

“Like hell my dad would call me before his coffee kicks in.”

“Of course he wouldn’t. Meet me at the Haus in an hour and a half, eh?”

“What? Why? Jack, what the fuck, I have class today!”

“Judging by the state of your hangover voice, I doubt you were even going.”

“Fuck you, Zimmermann.”

“See you there?”

“Whatever.” Shitty hangs up on Jack.

Jack can’t help but smile as he crosses from Rhode Island into Massachusetts. He didn’t expect to make too many trips back to Samwell when he originally signed with the Falconers, but that was before everything with Bitty happened. Even now it hasn’t been as many as he’s preferred, but they’ve been enough to satisfy his need to see his boyfriend, and his old teammates, excel on the ice. And he feels calm lately. Things with Bad Bob are great, many experts are saying Jack could win the Calder Trophy, and it’s all thanks to one boy.

Shitty is reclining on the porch steps when Jack pulls up to the Haus. “This better be important if I’m dressed,” he mumbles.

“It is important.” Jack grabs a few grocery bags from his trunk, along with the duffel bag. “We’re going to make a cake for Bittle.”

“We are? Can’t we just get him a cake?”

Jack glares at Shitty. “Of all the people at Samwell University, you really think Eric Bittle will accept a bakery cake?”

Shitty flips him off. “Okay, why do you need my help then?”

“Who’s going to break me into the Haus?”

“I still think the Kegster was a better idea. I mean, c’mon, at least he’s legally able to drink now.”

Jack almost comments that Bitty could have had a drink in Canada for two years. “You know my feelings, Shit.”

“Fine, you’re right.” Shitty gets up and pulls some cards out of his wallet. “It’s a good thing we never got around to calling that locksmith, huh?” Within seconds he has the front door unlocked, and he and Jack enter the Haus.  


* * *

“Brah.”

“Shitty, I know.”

“I know you said you were going with chocolate but that looks...a little dark?”

“Shitty, I _know_. Now go open a window so we can air this place out before everyone gets back.”

Jack stares at the burnt concoction before him. He doesn’t get it. Baking with Bitty during their class was a piece of--well. It was a lot smoother than this turned out. He triple-checks the recipe that his mother sent him to make sure he did everything correctly.

He’s ruining his boyfriend’s birthday. Jack slumps against the counter in defeat, hoping Bitty isn’t too disgusted by state of the kitchen.

Shitty opens the window and stares out. “You might be a bit late on that one,” he says.

“What?” Jack rushes to the window and hears the conversation getting louder.

“Brah, what do you mean you gave dibs to Nursey?”

“He was my choice, and he spent the tournament shining my skates.”

“Damn it, Holster.”

“You can give yours to Dex.”

“No, please don’t!”

“Shut up, Chowder!”

“Oh, my lord!”

The second he hears Bitty gasp at the sight of Jack’s Audi, Jack scatters back from the window. “Shit, what do we do now?”

“Put on your best ‘I-fucked-up-please-don’t-hate-me’ face,” Shitty replies.

Bitty runs into the house. “Jack? Jack, where are you?”

“I’m in here,” he calls out.

Bitty skids into the kitchen, the boys and Lardo trailing behind him. “We would’ve stayed out longer, but Chowder can’t deal with the pond when it isn’t frozen,” she says.

Jack smiles at Bitty. “Happy birthday.”

“You’re here,” Bitty says.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

Bitty glances down at the cake. “Did you make that?”

Jack nods. “It was my mom’s double chocolate cake. I--I don’t know what went wrong… I followed the directions exactly the same…”

“It’s not your fault. Dex has been playing with the wiring even though I explicitly told him the kitchen is off limits. Besides, it kind of looks like a hockey puck.”

Shitty chuckles. “He’s right, it does.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your day, Bittle,” Jack says.

Bitty steps forward and takes his hands. “You didn’t ruin it at all. I don’t think anyone other than Mama and Granny have ever baked for me before.”

Jack’s heart swells. “I love you, Eric,” he whispers.

“I love you, too.” Bitty moves in and kisses Jack, causing Shitty, Ransom, and Holster to whoop in delight.

“Wait, are you two dating?” Chowder asks.

“Brah, they’ve been all over each other since Bitty started here,” Holster says.

“Swawesome.”

Jack doesn’t bother correcting them. “I can stay tonight, eh?”

“Of course,” Bitty replies. “Though I’m guessing you wouldn’t want to take your old room?”

“I wasn’t planning on it. And I’ll make the cake up to you.”

“Don’t worry about it, honey. You can get one at Shaw’s for all I care.”

“Get the jar, Holster,” Ransom interrupts, “and with Jack’s salary we can probably make a killing on this.”

Jack forgets about the cake and kisses Bitty again. He can totally make it up to him another time.

Bitty’s anniversary present is sitting in the desk drawer at his apartment: tickets to Beyonce’s show in Foxborough.


End file.
